- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
♪ I got one hand on my heart, now ♪
♪ the other's on a gun ♪
♪ the city burns to ashes ♪
♪ in the hands of the rising sun ♪
[sirens wail in distance]
[Truck beeping]
[Dog barks in distance]
[Door opens]
- Hey, there. - [Sighs]
My god,
I haven't been here in ages.
McAuley's was a dump back in the day, wasn't it?
Yeah, what, they fixed the place up a bit?
Yeah, they cleaned it up some.
Hmm.
Yeah.
So, uh, why here?
You said you had your subpoena thing downtown today, don't you?
No, I do.
I figured McAuley's was on the way.
- Well, it's not really. - No?
No, it's a little out of my way, actually.
- Geez. - Eh.
I'm sorry, Shelly.
Don't worry.
Our first double date was here. [Chuckles]
Remember? You and Jimmy, me and Rena.
Yeah.
And six months later, Jimmy proposed to me here.
I was five months pregnant with Katie.
Even if you two didn't have to get married,
you would have anyways.
After all we've been through, you're still a fucking romantic.
[Chuckles]
How do you manage that, Richie?
Used to have the future to fantasize about.
Now I lean on the memories.
The lightning bolt...
- you and Jimmy. - [Scoffs] Please.
Uh, Rena and me both seen it
the second you two laid eyes on each other.
Yeah, sure... lust at first sight.
[Chuckles]
You want a drink?
I shouldn't.
But I better.
Yeah.
Ken: Our street intel indicates that
these so-called "big bosses" are using Chicago cops...
some on duty, some retired...
to transport payoffs to unknown city-hall insiders.
We suspect that these payoffs are being used
to buy police protection, zoning variances,
city contracts, also to bribe judges,
make court cases disappear... everything from D.U.I.s to murder.
It's Chicago.
If you can imagine it,
we suspect it.
It's my contention
that this systemic corruption is the very grease
that keeps the gears of the Chicago machine operational.
It is, therefore, our primary objective
to shut down the machine.
Nobody is off-limits,
no matter how powerful, how wealthy, how connected.
Nobody.
♪ That old moon up in the sky is shining way too bright ♪
You sure you want this?
Anything concrete?
Two dozen of Hal's business associates,
investors, politicians, and dollar amounts.
That many, huh?
Tip of the iceberg.
From the digging I done,
looks like anybody and everybody remotely involved
with putting a major skyscraper up in Chicago
came crawling to Hal for handouts.
♪ This old heart is stepped on ♪
This list details payoffs and kickbacks
citywide up to the mayor's office,
statewide, and all the way down to Springfield,
the governor, and beyond.
You turn that over to the D.O.J.,
they can't know where you got it.
Will you take a check?
Cash is always better.
- And the I.R.S. is none the wiser. - Oh, what they don't know won't hurt them.
[Sighs]
Uh...
Look, I'm... I'm coming up short.
Can you come by the house?
When?
I don't know how long my deposition's
gonna take. Tomorrow?
Sure.
You gonna look at that?
I'm still debating. Can't you tell?
The only thing Hal is guilty of, really,
is playing a rigged game.
- Everybody cheats. - But Hal got caught.
Sent up for, uh, racketeering,
fraud, criminal conspiracy at his age?
Country-club prison or no, that's a life sentence.
He won't take the D.O.J.'s immunity deal.
He won't name names, Richie.
- What choice do I have? - You can burn that.
And do what at my deposition today?
- Play dumb, as usual? - You didn't look at it.
Can't be dumb about something you don't know.
I think that's the definition of dumb.
If I trade that list to save Hal's life,
he'll probably divorce me on the spot
- for turning him into a... - Jimmy Pariah.
[Sighs] I was gonna say a rat.
Same difference.
The thing is
Hal is the C.E.O. of a major global construction company,
- as well-respected as Donald Trump. - That's a good thing?
But the way he talks,
he sounds exactly like my father.
Half my relatives.
He says that he would rather die in prison
than rat anybody out.
Sicilian code.
Hey,
the wife can't rat the husband out,
- can she? - Not legally.
As an officer of the corporation,
the D.O.J. has graciously granted me special dispensation.
- Hence the subpoena. - Hence the subpoena.
And just like the old-time mob bosses,
- your relatives... - Half.
... Hal has rainy-day money tucked away.
- Invested? - Hidden.
In the Caymans.
City of London. Switzerland.
I'm not officially supposed to know about any of this,
so don't quote me.
But he's even got bundled stacks of hundreds
that he keeps in the walls of our weekend house
at lake Geneva. And the worse yet,
he thinks that a prison sentence
is like a goddamn vacation.
His cardiologist says he had to slow down, so...
The mob went fucking legit, Shell.
This is what it looks like. It's tragic.
I asked Hal, I asked him,
"what happens if you don't outlive your prison sentence?"
And you know what he said?
He said, "if that happens,
I will die happily behind bars
secure in the knowledge" that I am well taken care of.
That's gentlemanly.
What the fuck is it with men?
- It used to be. - The lengths you go to to
take care of these women you allegedly love?
If we convince ourselves you're helpless,
it makes us feel useful.
I am not Hal's invalid mother, for god sake.
Guys don't always know the difference.
That is seriously fucked up, Richie.
[Sighs]
You know what Jimmy would say?
He'd say, "whatever happens, we make happen."
You ever see Jimmy?
Now and then.
- How is he? - The same.
I don't think he goes out much.
[Exhales deeply]
[Glass slams]
I want to talk about our other thing,
but I need another drink first.
I'm buying this round.
Stay.
[Sighs]
[Siren wails in distance]
[Horn blares]
[Telephone rings]
It's either a promotion, or it isn't, Ken.
I'm the interim unit boss.
It's my reward for bringing in the Hal Rezko indictment.
So, I congratulate you or what?
I don't know. It's more like a mine-to-fuck-up bump.
- I don't understand. - It's like a walk-on in football.
- You know I hate football. - [Sighs]
It's... it's a chance to prove myself.
So extra work without a pay raise.
Yeah.
What if you fuck it up?
Failure is not an option, not for me.
Eye of the tiger. Eyes on the prize.
[Sighs]
The Verrick Foundation benefit is tonight at 8:00.
I hired a limo. Do you want me to swing back at 6:00?
- Tonight? - Yeah.
Yeah, Ken, tonight. I told you about it a week ago.
You don't have to dress up. It's not formal.
- You can just wear what you're wearing. - I can't.
- Please don't do this to me, Ken. - Ellen,
I've just been put in charge of a major
- citywide corruption sting. - Oh, please, Ken.
This could be a career-maker for me.
We're targeting judges, C.E.O.s, alderman, cops...
anyone and everyone on either end of the payroll.
Who?
You want me to name names?
None of those people work at night.
Yeah, well, I have to. I'm sorry.
[Sighs]
This is important.
Yeah, well, so is this.
I haven't even come up with a decent name
for the operation yet.
How about Operation "Eat Shit and Die"?
[Indistinct conversations]
Shelly: [Sighs]
Okay.
Go.
You don't want to know about the other thing.
I do. I'm ready.
I told you I don't mess in all that crap anymore.
It's... it's... it's too dirty, even for me.
You said for me you'd make an exception.
I said that to get credit up front
for something I never intended doing,
so you'd like me.
I do it with everybody. It's a thing I do.
Well, look, it's not that I want to know
or even that I'm ready,
which I'm not. I don't know why I said I was.
Today, I need to know.
Because it'll help me decide whether I take that list
and march down to the D.O.J. offices
or grant Hal his dying wish and let him rot in prison.
Women, I thought,
already have, like, a sixth sense about this crap.
We do.
We also have a seventh sense.
It's called self-doubt.
This is "through the looking-glass" shit Shell.
One glance... no going back.
I know.
I don't provide photos in infidelity cases 'cause it's...
It's just... it's too fucking seedy.
Plus, I'm no good with a camera.
Ask Rena. I suck at it. I just don't got the eye.
There you got photocopy hotel bills,
flight itineraries, ample proof when Hal travels on business,
he rarely travels alone.
[Voice breaking] And this?
That's the monthly rent on an Oak Street one-bedroom apartment.
They call that whole stretch there "mistresses row."
[Scoffs]
[Inhales sharply]
[Sighs]
Well...
I said I wanted proof.
Now I have it.
If it makes you feel any better,
Jimmy's still in love with you.
[Scoffs]
You want loyalty from a guy,
you got it big-time in Jimmy.
He ain't been with anyone, in the carnal sense,
- since you two split. - Well, how do you know that?
He's Jimmy Pariah. He lives like a fucking monk.
Plus I'm a former detective with the Chicago Police Department
and a fully-licensed part-time P.I.
Give me credit.
When did you see him last? [Sniffles]
This morning.
- Today? - Yeah.
Here
at McAuley's.
Is that why you asked me to come here?
I was hoping... yeah...
- to sit you two down. - Why?
Why? Seriously?
I haven't set eyes on that man
since he sued again for shared custody of the kids
right before Katie turned 18.
He's in a bind.
Seeing he still feels the way he feels about you...
the kids, too...
I thought maybe you could help me help Jimmy listen to reason.
What kind of bind?
You got your D.O.J. thing.
The D.O.J. wants to grill me so badly,
let them send another subpoena.
What, Richie?
Okay.
So, I went to go see your dad recently
- at 26th and California. - Okay, I don't like this already.
You know Bud's getting out Saturday.
I've heard rumors to that effect.
Your dad...
he'll lift the price off of Jimmy's head,
call off the tenderizing, too,
if I can talk Jimmy into signing on.
No. Th... this sounds like my dad
wants his power base back.
I... I'm not really at liberty to discuss the details.
- What's tenderizing? - Tenderizing a rat?
Yeah, what is that?
Pretty much anything an inside guy can do
to make the life of the outside guy
who put him there a living hell.
You're Bud O'Rourke's daughter. How can you not know this?
- Tenderizing a rat? - You're part of it.
Well, it's the first I've heard of it.
You've been the heart of it from the get-go...
- you, Katie, Paulie. - How?
The best and most time-honored way to tenderize a rat
is to identify what he wants most in the world,
then make sure he loses it and never gets it back.
Your dad knows how much Jimmy loved you
and the kids,
so he did everything he could to turn you against Jimmy,
keep you all out of Jimmy's reach.
I know. It sounds vaguely evil, sure.
My dad didn't get to be chief of detectives
by glad-handing his way up through the ranks,
- but he's not evil. - Evil, like beauty,
I have found, is in the eye of the beholder.
No, I divorced Jimmy
because he had some serious fuck-ups of his own
that he had to be held accountable for.
The tranny hooker with the coke?
The hooker was a tranny?
I didn't believe that either till I talked to the boys
in lockup who did the cavity search.
Bud staged that whole charade.
He pulled strings from prison.
That she-male's testimony against Jimmy
on holding and solicitation was part of the freak's
plea deal on murder charges.
- Nobody can plea out murder charges. - Bud could.
As chief of detectives?
Anything to stick it to Jimmy.
Already locked up, what did he have to lose?
- I don't believe this. - I was fucking there, Shelly.
I was in on it.
Jimmy didn't cheat on you 18 years since you split.
Why would he cheat on you before?
When we rode together,
I always thought that holy mo was too good to be true.
I still think it. You know why?
'Cause he is.
Every time Jimmy challenged your full custody of the kids,
right before the judge's ruling, disaster struck.
Jimmy with the kiddy porn?
Jimmy with the heroin in his trunk?
You thought those were Saint Jimmy's fuck-ups?
That was all theater,
installment after installment
of the never betray Bud O'Rourke playhouse.
[Sighs]
A wise man once said,
"real wisdom comes when we finally learn
the full extent of our ignorance."
You want another drink?
Yes.
Please.
[Sighs]
[Buzzer]
What kind of cancer?
Inoperable.
Can't they do anything?
Should I tell Mom?
No, no, no.
Let's just keep this between you and me, son.
Compassionate release allows me at least
to get out of this rat cage for a second opinion.
- So there's hope? - Oh, there's always hope, Paulie.
Are you, uh, liking the blue?
Uh, I do.
Yeah. Yeah, I am.
My unit sergeant put me with a senior guy...
Phil Davis.
He's 20 years in. He's showing me the ropes.
Well, mentors are good.
Nobody does nothing here in Chicago on his own.
Remember that.
Ears open, mouth shut.
So, uh, what do you got planned when you get out,
besides the second opinion and all?
Well, this and that.
Past 70, it's all improv, you know.
[Both laugh]
Eh, there's some buzz around my district
that you're recruiting an army.
Army's are for wars, son.
That, too, maybe.
There any truth to it?
Why you asking?
'Cause I worry about you, Big Bud.
I mean, cancer... Jesus.
You don't fuck around with cancer, yeah?
Health is everything, right?
Your visitation list,
it's like a parade of department old-timers
coming to see you all of a sudden
when you get out, like, Saturday.
- Well, they're worried about me. - Mm.
Your health, though...
Your health should be first and foremost.
You're the only grandfather I got left, Bud.
I don't want you doing anything that's gonna,
you know, endanger your health
any more than it's already endangered.
[Door creaks]
You thought Jimmy would say yes to this?
He gets the price lifted off his head,
a full stop to the tenderizing,
and he scores a low-effort, high-paying,
reasonably prestigious gig?
It's win-win.
- No, it isn't, Richie. - It is, Shell.
No, it's my dad's way of making Jimmy
as dirty as the rest of us.
Nobody's clean no more. How is this dirty?
If Jimmy managed to hold out all these years,
what makes you or my dad think that he'll cave now?
Bud was pretty certain that Jimmy
would be tenderized enough by now
to see the error of his ways.
18 years is a long time.
I doubt I could take 18 hours of the bullshit
the Chicago Police Department dumped on Jimmy.
I think he might have snapped.
But not the way Bud hoped.
Why do you say that?
[Sighs] He was talking shit about how
when social security runs out,
he's got his service revolver in the gun safe.
When he said goodbye to me,
he stuck this in my pocket.
- What is it? - Fucking switchblade.
Can I see it?
Careful. The blade shoots straight out
the front instead of the side.
[Clicks tongue] Wow.
Where did Jimmy get this?
He lifted it from my uncle Sam's basement.
- You know my uncle Sam, right? - Mad Sam?
- Mad Sam, yeah. - Oh.
Jimmy and me were
maybe kids kicking around that summer,
bored out of our minds.
We heard screaming from my uncle's basement.
After we saw Sam pull out of the garage,
we snuck in there to poke around a little bit.
Jimmy lifted that.
It had blood on it.
Why did he give it to you?
Who knows why that holy mo does anything he does?
He's cryptic. That's what he is. He's fucking cryptic.
This belonged to my grandfather.
Couldn't have.
He showed it to me when I was a little girl.
Look here on the blade.
It's engraved... "A.C."
What's A.C.?
Alphonse Capone.
Al Capone?
Yeah.
What would an Irish Chicago cop be doing
with Al Capone's switchblade?
I don't know. It was his good-luck charm.
He went everywhere with it.
Not for Jimmy it wasn't.
His dad's heart attack that summer, his ma's car crash.
- Marrying me. - Look how that turned out.
I think he thought if he returned it
to the Destefano family, to me,
it would magically lift the bad juju off his soul or some shit.
I'm pretty sure my uncle won that
in a poker game off of Tony Spilotro.
Did your grandpa O'Rourke ever play poker with Tony Spilotro?
Yeah, he played poker every week
and never without his good-luck charm.
You're welcome to keep it if you want, Shell,
it being a family heirloom and all.
[Siren wailing in distance]
When my dad put Jimmy on the payroll,
he didn't go to the feds first.
No?
He came to me.
He put the stack of cash...
hundreds... in an envelope on table between us.
Told me everything my dad told him.
Who it came from, what it's for.
And then he asked me what he should do.
My dad really loved Jimmy.
Richie: That's true.
Jimmy loved him, too.
He did.
My dad confided in Jimmy like he was a son,
told him stuff he never told anybody.
Not even you?
How the big bosses sponsored him to be a cop from day one.
Remember how they used to call Big Bud "Supercop"?
Bud was everybody's hero,
except for J. Edgar.
Not with Bud landing the FBI's most wanted
before the g-men could land a clue.
Every one of those arrests was a liability to the big bosses.
Seriously?
That's what he told Jimmy.
Every one was a setup,
handed to my dad on a silver platter.
The bosses wanted Bud
highly positioned and in deep. That's how they did it.
So when Jimmy asked me what he should do,
I said...
"Follow your heart."
The next morning, he shaved his chest,
marched down to the FBI, and strapped on a wire.
Do you still love him?
What kind of a bind?
What?
You said Jimmy was in another bind.
It's complicated.
Well, simplify it for me.
[Sighs]
- He's got to take this gig or else. - [Scoffs]
- Jimmy can dodge a Chicago bullet. - It's different this time.
What's different?
This time, they want you to do it?
His only friend that could flush him out of hiding?
- I'm over a barrel. - Who has you over a barrel?
I flushed him out, but I couldn't do it.
- Who? - You know I can't say.
- It's complicated. - Tell me, Richie.
It's your dad. It's Bud.
If I don't talk Jimmy into signing on or...
- Or take him out? - ... Then Bud won't back me.
If Bud don't back me, then the big bosses will,
- you know... - Take you out.
Well, simply put in a nutshell, yeah.
I fucked up big-time.
I got like 12 hours tops.
So this bind is not Jimmy's bind as much as it is yours.
It's crazy, Shelly. It's like
black is white and white is black.
Uh, Katie and Donny's wedding this weekend?
I told Jimmy. I said, "take the fucking gig.
Walk your own fucking daughter down the aisle."
I don't know how things got so fucking twisted.
Yes, you do.
We both do.
When my dad got indicted,
my mom's death,
the trial,
when Jimmy took the stand to corroborate his own testimony,
he always stood his ground,
through the hate mail and the death threats.
You know, some people think that ratting out a friend
- is the worst crime you can commit. - It is, Shell.
Well, Jimmy never thought of it as ratting anybody out.
He didn't call it whistle-blowing.
He didn't call it breaking the Chicago cops'
unholy code of silence.
He called it lamp-lighting.
He said it was all one man could do
to lead us out of the darkness.
Okay,
now I got more like 11 hours.
Go find Jimmy. Bring him here.
I'll talk to him.
[Chuckles] You sure?
I'll wait right here.
- What... what about your thing? - [Scoffs]
Go, Richie.
[Sighs]
Who you calling?
Reinforcements.
I haven't spoken a civil word
to that man in almost 20 years.
I'm not gonna face him alone.
Go.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -